I shoulda beat her with my walker…

Last night, I went out to a nearby fast-food restaurant for dinner. When my order was being totaled up, the young lady at the register told me my total:

“That’ll be $6.99, minus the senior discount…”

“I’m not even 40!” I blurted out.

She was mortified.

In her defense, she was a 17-year-old black girl. So she was judging the age of someone of a different race, sex, and more than double her age.

And I do admit I do look a bit older than I am. It’s the hairline, dammit. Also, since I’m on vacation, I hadn’t shaved yesterday.

Also, my New England accent might have thrown her off. Rather, my utter lack of an accent, as she had a bit of a southern drawl.

But still… it was a huge, crushing blow to my self-esteem.

I’d consider suing the Colonel, but I think my case might be hurt by the fact that I took the discount anyway. If she had offered me a medium Geritol, though, all bets would have been off.

Us flint-fisted New Englanders, always penny-wise and pound-foolish.

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